


Always Yours

by Historical_Muse



Category: British Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Aggression, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domination, Fluff, M/M, mush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 02:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Historical_Muse/pseuds/Historical_Muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The games people play can have consequences...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Game For Beginners

Putting down his drink, Billy screwed up his eyes, peered into the darkness and, with some effort, finally managed to focus. Then he closed his eyes, blinked, and jabbed Elijah violently in the ribs. “Well, I don’t know what it is you’re daein; but if you don’t mind my saying so, whatever it is you _are_ daein’ is, in my ‘umble oh-pinion, seriously pissing him orff.”   
  
“ _Fuck_!” Elijah gasped, clutching at the throbbing site of the impact between his flesh and Billy’s sharp elbow. “ _Christ_ that hurt… And I’m not pissing _anyone_ off.”   
  
Billy shook his finger. “ _ **Au contraire**_. I can see one _very_ pissed off hobbit an’ he’s sittin’ right-over- _there_...”   
  
Elijah didn’t even deign to look in the direction in which Billy’s wobbly index finger was pointing. He felt the blood in his cheeks and was thankful that the bar was dimly lit and no-one could see the blush. “Ah, fuck him.” He spat the words out venomously. “He doesn’t own me.”   
  
“Li- _jah_ ,” Billy sighed. “Just think about what you’re daein’. You’ve got tae work wi’ him, after all. You work wi’ him more than any o’ the rest of us dae, ‘cept for Sean. Don’t fuck it up, for Christ’s sake!”   
  
At that point Dom surfaced, all bleary eyes and drunken bemusement, from where he’d been nestling his head between Billy’s shoulder and the back of the banquette. “ _Who’s_ Elijah pissing off?”   
  
“Never mind, hen.” Billy’s arm pulled Dom’s face against his neck, patting a broad, scrawny shoulder affectionately in an attempt at damage limitation. “Y’don’t want tae know.”   
  
“I do! I do!” Dom’s thirst for gossip waylaid his thirst for alcohol as he attempted to pull himself upright again. His eyes tried to focus as he wrinkled his brow so as to be able to concentrate on what Billy had to say.   
  
Another platonic pat from Billy. “No, you don’t.”   
  
“It’s Andy,” Orlando announced cheerfully, bouncing in and wedging himself between Elijah and the arm of the banquette without so much as a by your leave or a “Hello boys, and do any of you want to touch my arse?”   
  
Billy shot him an exasperated look. “Has no one ever told you that it’s _rude_ tae earwig on other peopleses conversations, Orli?”   
  
Dom fought back against Billy’s arm. “ _What’s_ Andy?” he demanded. “ _Who’s_ Andy – Andy Pandy?” And then winced and yelped when it was _his_ turn to feel Billy’s bony elbow.   
  
“Andy _Serkis_ , fuckwit,” Billy hissed at him. “He an’ Lij have been...ye know... Och, dae ye want me to draw ye pictures!"  
  
“Oh yeah...” Dom straightened up and stared into the bar with the directness of the seriously pissed. “Lij,” he continued after a pause, “I don’t mean to be rude, but...what the fuck do you _see_ in ‘im?”   
  
“ _I_ could tell you,” Orli grinned lecherously. “Ever _seen_ Andy with his shirt off? I mean, fucking _hell_...!”   
  
“No, I mean, _seriously_ , Lij...”   
  
Elijah merely gazed into his glass, refusing to answer.   
  
Billy dug his fingernails into Dom’s thigh. “Dom, if you want to keep your balls, shut the fuck up...”   
  
“I mean – nobody else on set but us knows you’re fucking him, Lij,” Dom blundered on good-naturedly. “Are you ashamed of it or something?”   
  
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Orli snorted angrily. “You’re such a class act, Dom.”   
  
“Well I think it’s sweet,” Billy declared. “Two wee hobbits taegether.”   
  
Orli beamed. “Like you an’ me, Bill!”   
  
“No, Orli; you’re just a fuckin’ half-wit, not a Halfling.” Billy blew a kiss at the taller boy and smiled winsomely up at him, batting his eyelashes coyly at Orlando’s bemused expression.   
  
Dom fixed his gaze on Elijah again. “Are you _really_ shaggin’ Andy Serkis?” he wanted to know. “Or is it an urban myth?”   
  
“No, more of an urban _mythter_ ,” grinned Orli, drooling impishly again. “Did I mention the guy’s fucking muscles?”   
  
“Big deal!” Billy sniffed. “ _I’ve_ got one of those. Oh. ‘Fucking muscles’ _plural_? Jeez, thanks, Orli – you know how to make a guy feel inferior...”   
  
“No, but _seriously_...” Dom persisted through the giggles of the others. “Are you _really_ fucking The Serk?”   
  
Elijah sighed, still staring into his drink. “Look, Dom, it’s really none of your business _who_ I’m fucking!”   
  
“But Andy _Serkis_ of all people!” Dom exclaimed. “I can’t believe that you’re actually fucking Andy Serkis!”   
  
Billy grabbed Dom by the arm, green eyes blazing. “Jesus Christ, Dom! Tell the whole _bar_ , why don’t ye! Have ye nae fuckin’ sense at all?”   
  
Orli stood up and took hold of Dom’s elbow. “Time you bought these good people another drink, I think, Dom,” he said firmly, pulling the lanky actor to his feet. “I’ll help you carry them back to the table.”   
  
“But – oh, yes. ‘Nother round. Yes. Same again, please...” Dom babbled amiably as he let himself be dragged away. 

  
Billy watched Orli half-drag, half-escort Dom to the bar, and then sat back, sighing and smiling indulgently. “Fuckin’ hell – Dom can be _such_ a twat when he’s rat-arsed.” And then an awful thought struck him. “Christ, Lij – you don’t suppose he _heard_ any o’ that, do ye?”   
  
“Who?”   
  
“Och!” Billy tutted. “Who d’ye think – Orville the friggin’ Duck? I mean _him_.  _Andy_.”   
  
Elijah finally looked up from the remains of his drink. “Billy, I couldn’t give a flying fuck if he heard every last word an’ _then_ some. I really don’t fuckin’ care.”   
  
Billy looked across to the corner table where Andy was sitting. He’d been there all evening, sufficiently far away to be out of the hobbits’ orbit, but close enough all the same – and drinking what Billy felt to be a worrying amount. Billy didn’t quite understand what was going on, but he knew that whatever it was wasn’t good. Andy’s eyes had been on Elijah all night and the little Scotsman didn’t think he’d be as indifferent as Elijah in the same circumstances; the brooding scowl on the Englishman’s usually affable face and the dark look in his eyes unnerved him. “I thought you had a real sweetheart of a relationship going,” he said at last. “You were always so upbeat when you talked to me about the two of you. I was gettin’ quite jealous at one point!”   
  
Elijah stood up and finished his drink. “Yeah, well – things change,” he replied, slamming his glass down on the table.   
  
“I thought you said he loved you!”   
  
Elijah shrugged himself into his jacket. “Yeah, I did,” he said bitterly, holding back the tears welling up in his eyes. “But that’s when I thought he _did_ love me – when I thought he wanted me and that I belonged to him.” He snorted, picking up his keys and cigarettes and shoving them into his pocket. “Only I know better now, Billy. I’m not so sure any more. Oh sure, I was good to fuck for a while; but now that he _has_ fucked me I don’t think he wants me at all.”   
  
“You don’t know that, Lij...” Billy’s voice was soft, almost cautioning. He was incredibly fond of Andy – but still he wanted to warn Lij, though he wasn’t sure why.  _< Watch what you’re saying...I don’t think it’s a good idea to be shouting your mouth off like that...>_ Then an idea struck him. “Maybe it’s all just a misunderstanding?” he suggested, his optimistic nature sallying to the fore.   
  
“Yeah, right...”   
  
Billy watched Elijah as he made his way towards the door to the street. It was amazing, he thought, just how quickly you could sober up when you felt something was badly wrong. If Andy and Elijah had split up, then it was a great shame; the two of them made a good team and the soppy romantic in Billy wanted to see Andy and Lij back together again. But something about this simply didn’t feel right – and the level of animosity and sense of coiled energy just waiting to be released that he’d felt from Andy all evening was totally out of character. He looked across at Andy and saw that the older man, too, was watching Lij’s progress intently.  _< Like Gollum in the Mines of Moria,>_ he thought. And wondered yet again why he had such a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.   
  
“God, Dom, you’re such fucking hard work!” Orli declared breathlessly as he steered his cheerful friend back onto the banquette and put a tray of drinks down onto the table. He took in the empty seat and looked expectantly at Billy. “Everything okay?”   
  
“Oh – what? Sorry, sorry...” Shaken unexpectedly out of his reverie, Billy was disorientated for a moment. “Sorry, yes. Miles away. What was the question again?”   
  
“Andy and Elijah,” Orli smiled, handing Billy his drink. “Is everything okay?”   
  
Billy looked across again to the corner table where Andy had been sitting. He wasn’t totally surprised to see that it was now empty. “Yeah, fine,” he replied absently, hoping that he was right.   
  


Elijah was still crying when the soft night breeze hit him.  He couldn’t help it. He was neither weak nor a cry-baby, being tougher than many people expected him to be and prone to shocking those who thought he would be made of porcelain or glass. But when it came to love...well, sometimes when he fell, he fell hard and gave himself body and soul to the one he loved, so long as he knew he was loved in return. And he was in love now; but what had begun so beautifully was spinning away from him, turning to ashes in his hands.   
  
In the space of a couple of weeks his world had been upended. Where the fuck had it all gone wrong? One minute he’d been deliriously happy, proud, and excited to be the lover of an extraordinarily talented man who showered him with overwhelming affection and treated him like a ruffian prince – and the next, thrown into the depth of despair when his lover barely seemed to acknowledge his existence or else was terse and prickly when Elijah spoke to him.   
  
He couldn’t work out if it was something he’d done, or merely that Andy had lost interest in him. Maybe, too, it was due to the rigours of filming, of being constantly tired and both of them being affected by the extreme psychological journeys their characters were making. They’d had fights before and had usually made up again by the time the day was over. If it had been Elijah’s fault, Andy had his own ways of getting him to make amends; and if Andy had been in the wrong – well; Elijah knew perfectly well that he’d be spending the night showing Andy how much he was forgiven. But now they hardly ever even looked directly at each other or spoke except when in character on-set.   
  
And yet Elijah knew that Andy watched him, even followed him, as he had done tonight. From the way he behaved sometimes Elijah might even think that Andy was jealous of the attention he got from women and other men; if he let a girl kiss him or allowed some rough boy to rub his cock through his jeans he always knew that someone would be watching him. But then, Andy couldn’t _possibly_ be playing the role of jealous, possessive lover. He was above all that. Because that would mean Andy still cared about him – and he didn’t, did he...   
  
Tugging his shirt collar up and pulling his jacket tight around him, Elijah sighed and set off down the road.

  
Andy was waiting for him when he got to the end of the street.   
  
At first Elijah didn’t spot him; was merely aware of a dark shape in the shadows that showed faint, pale glimmers of light against the blackness and of a presence he knew all too well behind him. He turned slightly, already knowing who was there before his eyes adjusted to the poor light and could see a well-dressed man lounging against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jacket.   
  
“Well, well, well... So they let you out on your own, then?” Andy’s deliberately sing-song voice was mocking, derisive. “Let you come home alone, did they? Hmmm? Didn’t any of them want to take you home to bed to fuck? Aw – _poor_ Lijah. I bet _that_ fucked you off, didn’t it? Would’ve had Orli, or Dom, or Billy, if they’d asked – but they didn’t want _you_.”   
  
“Just couldn’t keep away, huh?” Elijah’s voice was bitter. “Wanted to make sure your Precious got home okay?”   
  
He turned to face Andy – and then almost wished he hadn’t. There was no mistaking the fact that Billy had been right about Andy being pissed off with the way Elijah had been behaving in the bar with his friends; he’d been able to feel the venom in Andy’s baleful glares and he felt it again now as Andy uncoiled from the darkness and began to walk towards him, his footsteps unnaturally loud in the silence of the night. But now there was an added undercurrent of something that didn’t feel good. Elijah shivered, despite the warm night air.   
  
Turning away from the shadows in those blue eyes, Elijah tried a dismissive laugh – but it caught in his throat. “I still _am_ your ‘Precious’, I suppose? You _said_ I was yours. Said I’d _always_ be yours the last time you fucked me. Remember that? When you said you were going to fuck me through the floor and you just about did? When you fucked me so hard I’m surprised I don’t still have the bruises to prove it. Remember, Andy? When I told you I belonged to you and always would.” Head back and chin high, he turned and looked up at the older man – and regretted his brave words the instant he saw the expression in Andy’s eyes. “I meant it then, Andy. I still mean it now – even though I’m not sure you want _me_...” he finished brokenly. His voice was breaking up, but he wouldn’t cry again – he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t give Andy that satisfaction.  
  
“Finished?” Andy enquired sarcastically after a brief pause. “Any _more_ crap you’d like to give me, or is that it?” He seized Elijah by the scruff of the neck and shook him. “No? Nothing more to say?” He released the younger man roughly and snarled at him. “No, didn’t think so. You’re pretty brave when you’ve got all your mates around you – but when it’s just us...when it’s just you an’ me...you’re not so fuckin’ tough, are you...”   
  
Elijah was shivering now, wishing he could turn and run away but held captive by those cold, hard eyes. “What are you going to do to me?” His voice quavered, in a mixture of love, fear, and desire.   
  
“Oh, I think you _know_ what I’m going to do to you, Elijah; you ought to by now. It’s not the _first_ time we’ve been here, after all.”   
  
“Are – are we going back to your place?”   
  
“Good god, no,” Andy snorted. “I’ve booked a room in a hotel. Nice and anonymous. Because you’re a noisy little fuck, Elijah. I don’t want my neighbours wondering what the hell’s going on, do I. Now...” He took Elijah’s arm and pulled the boy alongside him, almost dragging him through the streets. “Let’s go for a nice little walk, shall we?”   
  
  
When they reached the hotel room, Elijah tried to struggle free from Andy’s unyielding grip. “You can’t do this, Andy.”   
  
“Can’t do what?”   
  
“Can’t just...” Elijah blushed, trying to find the right words. “Can’t just fuck me like I’m some cheap trick you’ve just picked up in a bar.”   
  
Andy’s derisive hoot of laughter made Elijah’s blood run cold. “Why ever not? It wouldn’t be the _first_ time.”   
  
“Because...” He was panicking now. “Because you _can’t_.”   
  
Andy unlocked the door, pushed it open, and bundled Elijah into the room. “And whatever makes you think _that_?”   
  
“Well...I...”   
  
“You’re _mine_ , Elijah,” Andy growled as he turned and locked the door behind them, and then stood in front of it, blocking any means of escape as he unzipped his own trousers. “You’ve already made that _very_ clear to me.  And so now I’m going to do whatever the hell I like to you.”   
  
Something in Andy’s precise enunciation made Elijah shudder and he lowered his head, closing his eyes as hot tears spilled down his cheeks. “Please don’t...I’m sorry...”   
  
Andy shook his head as he pulled Elijah towards him. “It’s too late for ‘sorry’, little boy.  _Much_ too late...” Unnervingly calm, he tugged open Elijah’s trousers and forced down the zip before his fingers slid inside, pushing aside Elijah’s briefs impatiently, and encircling his treacherously hardening cock. Andy used his free hand to tear open the rest of Elijah’s shirt, heedless of the scattering buttons and the rending of the delicate fabric. "  
  
No, Andy!” Elijah protested helplessly.   
  
“That was the arrangement.” Andy’s low voice seemed to slide down Elijah’s body, caressing and undressing him as though preparing the way for those long, clever fingers to follow. “That’s what we agreed.” He reached down and grabbed Elijah’s hand, folding the small fingers around his own hard cock. “Now shut the fuck up, Elijah. And make yourself useful.”   
  
“ _No_ , Andy...” Elijah’s voice was barely a groan.   
  
“Elijah...” Andy’s finger was on Elijah’s lips, pressing the soft skin hard against his teeth. “What did I just tell you to do?”   
  
“To shut the fuck up, Andy.”   
  
Andy patted him and smiled with false brightness. “That’s right! Good boy!” Elijah shuddered. Andy was speaking to him as though he were a fucking _dog_. “You only speak when _I_ say you can.” A moment later Andy had seized Elijah’s wrist. “And did I _say_ you could take your hand away?” His normally brilliant blue eyes seemed to glitter even more brightly with a combination of lust and loathing.   
  
“No, Andy.”   
  
“So what do you say, Elijah?” "  
  
I’m sorry, Andy...”   
  
“And why are you sorry?”   
  
“B-because I took my hand away without you giving me permission.”   
  
“Good boy.” Andy raised his hand to pat Elijah on the head, causing the boy to flinch slightly. “And so what are you going to do now?” "  
  
I’m going to touch your cock again.”   
  
“No, you’re not just going to _touch_ it, you’re...?”   
  
Elijah squeezed his eyes shut, more tears pushing past his lashes. “I’m going to hold it...hold your cock.”   
  
“And?”   
  
“And jerk you off if you tell me to.” Elijah turned his head. “Christ, Andy.”   
  
And then he was gasping as Andy’s hand grabbed the side of his head, thumb against his throat and fingers tugging at his hair as he was pulled round to face the older man once more.   
  
“ _Don’t_ turn your head away without my permission!”   
  
Andy’s voice hurt Elijah’s ears and he found himself yelling back. “I’m sorry! What the fuck else do you _want_ me to say?”   
  
Andy only smiled. “Maybe I was wrong earlier. Maybe ‘sorry’ is okay after all. Are you going to _show_ me how sorry you are, Lij?”   
  
Elijah gasped, trying to breathe. “If you want me to. I swear I will. You _know_ I will.”   
  
“Well maybe I should tell you what I want you to do, first. And do you know what I’m going to do to _you_? Or do you _really_ need me to tell you?”   
  
“No,” Elijah mumbled against the fingers clamping his jaw. “No, I don’t.” He could swear Andy’s cock was harder than ever. “Please tell me.”   
  
“You really don’t know?”   
  
"No.”   
  
“What?”   
  
"No...”   
  
The smile that accompanied the words was patient, but the glitter in the bright eyes told a very different story. “I can’t hear you...”   
  
Elijah coughed as Andy’s hand squeezed his jaw, thumb pressing hard against the Adam’s apple. “ _No_!”   
  
“Would you like me to tell you?”   
  
The crooning, sing-song voice, deceptive in its mild tone, made Elijah shiver. “Yes, Andy.”   
  
“‘Yes’ what?”   
  
“‘Yes please’, Andy.”   
  
“Better. Because for a start, when I’ve finished with you you’re going to know that you’ve been well and truly fucked. I’m going to fuck you so damned hard that your hot little arse is going to be rubbed raw and you won’t be able to walk or sit down properly for a week. Just to remind you that you belong to _me_.”   
  
Elijah swallowed hard and tried not to shiver as he looked up into Andy’s eyes. Because he knew that Andy meant every word he said and he knew what was coming next.   
  
And as Andy tore off the remnants of Elijah’s shirt before turning his attention to the boy’s trousers and briefs, Elijah let the shudders of emotion flow through him, knowing he couldn’t hide his feelings from Andy any longer.   
  
Because the shivers of terror were becoming more pleasurable. More exciting.   
  
Because Elijah knew all too well what was going to happen to him tonight.  What lessons he was going to have to learn.   
  
And couldn’t wait for his education to begin...


	2. Actions Speak Louder Than Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before.

The sunlight was streaming in through the curtains when Elijah woke up. For a moment he didn’t know where he was and tried to sit up and look around him – but something heavy across his chest and around his shoulders kept him flat on his back in the big bed with its rumpled cotton sheets. Not that he minded too much: he felt stiff and sore and his ass throbbed like a bitch and that was enough to concentrate on for the moment.  
  
When he felt movement next to him in the bed he turned, wincing, and found Andy curled up against him, one leg across Elijah’s thigh, tousled head burrowing against Elijah’s bare shoulder and his arms wrapped protectively around the younger man’s body. Smiling, Elijah wound a wayward strand of black tangled hair around his finger and then snuggled closer, nudging Andy’s dawn erection with his thigh. “Morning,” he said, grinning.  
  
Andy’s voice was thick with sleep and weariness. “Umphn...yeah...morning. Whatever.”  
  
Elijah tried to stifle a giggle, but failed; Andy wasn’t exactly a morning person. Especially when they had still been fucking like animals barely two hours before the alarm was set to go off.   
  
“You okay?” Andy’s voice was a low, sleepy rumble as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm.   
  
When Elijah looked at him again, Andy was propped up on one elbow, peering at him with the demeanour of a drowsily befuddled dormouse. “Yeah, fine...” he smiled, rubbing his fingertips gently against Andy’s stubbled chin and relishing the roughness.   
  
Andy stretched, flexing the arm muscles that never ceased to amaze Elijah, given that Andy tended to keep his body under wraps, given the often obscene charms of the gimp suit.  He ran his hand across Elijah’s forearm, taking care to trace the cord burns on the wrists gently and wincing at the sight of marks on the upper arms, torso, and shoulders that were already purpling into bruises. “I’m sorry about last night...” His voice was tender and apologetic.   
  
Elijah stared at him. “What the fuck _for_?”   
  
Andy coloured. “You _know_ what for.”   
  
Elijah pushed his hand through Andy’s bed-rumpled curls. “Don’t be so fucking stupid. You didn’t do anything to me last night that I didn’t want you to do.”   
  
“Yeah, I know, but...” Andy dipped his head and kissed one of the fledgling bruises. “You’re sure? Only you’re such a little bit an’ I forget sometimes.”   
  
Elijah kissed him full on the mouth, tasting stale alcohol and morning breath and not caring. “But I _love_ it when you’re rough,” he protested, smiling impishly. “I _love_ it when you make me scream and yell. It makes me so fucking horny!”   
  
“Yes, but look...” Andy brushed his fingers tenderly across Elijah’s marked flesh. “And your poor little arse...”   
  
Elijah sighed and grinned. “Nothing that makeup won’t hide. I’m tougher than I look, you know, fuckwit.”   
  
Andy didn’t seem comforted. “I’m sorry, Lij – I never meant to hurt you. You know I wouldn’t. But I needed to know that you’re mine, Elijah – and that I’m yours, and –”   
  
“Stop it.” Elijah put his fingertips against Andy’s mouth. “Sssh. It’s really okay.”   
  
“But last night...”   
  
“What about it?”   
  
“I hurt you.”   
  
Elijah lowered his eyelids seductively, ran his fingers across Andy’s lips. “I’ve been a naughty boy. I deserved it. You said so yourself.”   
  
“ _Elijah_!”   
  
“Well I _did_ , putting you through all that.”   
  
“We were _both_ guilty then, Lij.”   
  
“Of _what_ , exactly? Of getting stressed to the max by work? Hell yeah, guilty as charged. Both of us.” He lowered his voice, smiling reassuringly at his lover and sliding his thumb between his lips. “You were right to be strict with me last night. I thought you didn’t love me – so I’d been a bad boy, finding other toys to play with instead of you. Last night I _deserved_ my punishment – if being fucked through the floor and the mattress could be _called_ a punishment. You needed to teach me manners – Andy, stop _blushing_ , for fuck’s sake!”   
  
Andy stroked Elijah’s smooth torso with delicate fingers. “I _hurt_ you,” he insisted.   
  
Elijah laughed affectionately and shook his head. “For fuck’s sake…” He took one of Andy’s caressing hands and began sucking the finger-tips gently, before looking up at him again, smile warm and eyes seductive. “You _know_ I like it when you treat me like a whore.”   
  
“Don’t say that. I was _too_ rough with you – you wouldn’t have those bruises if –”  
  
"It was what I wanted. What I needed. I _like_ being your whore.”   
  
“But Lij – how can you still want me when I do something like that to you?”   
  
“Because I’m yours, and you’re mine.”   
  
“But how _can_ I be when –”   
  
With a gentle sigh and shake of the head, Elijah placed his fingers against Andy’s mouth once more. “Ssshhh...I know what you’re trying to say – and I want you to shut the fuck up! You _are_ mine. You’ve proved it. And after last night you know for sure that I belong to you.”   
  
“Even after I –”   
  
“Look,” Elijah began, stroking Andy’s face gently. “I know I’m only a little guy, but I’m not made of glass. I’m a _tough_ little fucker. I go surfing, I go off and do all the other rough stuff the hobbits do – and sure, I get bruises and shit, but I bounce back in one piece. And what we do in bed is no different. I _love_ taking it to extremes like we do sometimes – being treated like I’m nothing but something you own and can do what you want with. Like I have no responsibilities – like all the pressure’s off my back.” He sighed and looked down, lacing his fingers with Andy’s. “You know, playing Frodo I often feel like the whole weight of this movie is on _my_ shoulders, not just on Pete’s. And that’s scary shit, Andy. Makes me feel responsible. Which is _why_...” He smiled and squeezed Andy’s fingers. “Which is why, like I say, I adore it when you just take me and fuck me senseless whether I want you to or not.” And then he giggled. “Although I always _do_ want you to fuck me senseless,” he added.   
  
“Even when I hurt you?”   
  
“The pain just adds to it – and anyway, it’s usually only because I’m not ready or we fuck up or something. I _know_ you don’t like hurting me – you’re not that kind of guy, for fuck’s sake!” He lowered his head, looking up at Andy coyly. “But I do like the bruises. They tell me you can’t get enough of me – that you’re so horny for me that you don’t have time to be gentle.”   
  
"You like that, do you?”   
  
To Elijah’s relief, Andy was starting to look reassured – and he liked the tentative purr in his lover’s voice. “ _Hell_ yeah. Who _doesn’t_ want to think that their lover finds them as sexy as hell? And I love it when you get all dominant with me – that’s _such_ a fucking turn-on. I love the thrill of it, the uncertainty, the sense of danger and the possibility that it might turn into something I’m _really_ not expecting. Makes me feel alive and horny as shit.” He leaned across and kissed his partner’s mouth very tenderly. “And I know you’re in love with me, Andy – I know how much I mean to you. You prove that to me every day.” He began to giggle again. “And besides – if I _didn’t_ love you, and I didn’t know how much you love _me_ and I didn’t totally get off on being treated rough, I’d fucking kick you in the balls and take a blunt knife to your dick.”   
  
“You fucking would, as well,” Andy retorted with a smile. “No-one gives _you_ a hard time and gets away with it.”   
  
Elijah shifted in the bed and stroked Andy’s arm. “Want you to do something for me.” "  
 _  
 _Anything__. You know that.”  
  
“’Kay. Here’s the deal. I want you to go down –”   
  
"– On you?” Andy asked hopefully. “I like the way you’re thinking!”   
  
“Well, maybe later...” Elijah grinned mischievously. “Although _you’re_ the one with the hard-on, Mr Stiffie. No,” he continued more seriously, throwing off the sheet and putting his hand on his upper thigh. “I want to show you something.”   
  
Andy laughed. “Your dick, yes; I’ve seen it.”   
  
“No. Not that. I want to you look at something. Up here on my inner thigh.”  
  
"What is it?”   
  
“Something I think you ought to see.”   
  
"Andy looked pale. “Shit, Lij – is it something bad?”   
  
“No! No: something... _good_. Go on, look.”   
  
“Lij, am I going to like this?”   
  
"Oh yes. I think so.”   
  
"Why?”   
  
“Because I know _you_. See, the Fellowship guys have been talking about us all getting a tattoo to commemorate our friendship when the shoot ends. But I’ve beaten ‘them to it. I went and got one done a while back. I wasn’t going to tell you, but... Anyway. Take a look.”   
  
Andy looked where Elijah’s endearingly stubby finger was pointing and saw a large spiky “A” against a circle high up on the inside of Elijah’s thigh, almost hidden in his groin. “Christ, that must’ve hurt.”   
  
“A little. But it was worth it.”   
  
Andy looked even closer. “That’s appropriate,” he grinned. “An anarchy symbol. You couldn’t’ve chosen better! Anarchy and chaos – that’s what you’ve brought into my life, Elijah Wood.”   
  
“No.” Elijah shook his head. “Look closer.”   
  
“Okay,” Andy shrugged cheerfully, and peered closer at Elijah’s groin. “I’m not complaining. Being this close to your cock is _always_ a pleasure.”   
  
When Andy actually took a proper close-up look at the inside of his lover’s thigh, Elijah shifting so that the morning sunlight afforded him a better view, he could see that the words “Always Yours” were tattooed in small, uncial script beneath the symbol. It was then that he realised that this wasn’t _quite_ an anarchy symbol – that the “A” was on a bright circle and that the “A” itself was naggingly familiar.   
  
“Fucking hell...!”   
  
With a jolt of thrilled disbelief he realised that it was actually his own handwriting he was looking at. That was _exactly_ the way he wrote his capital “A”s – there was no mistaking the distinctive bar across the “A” and the right-handed slant.   
  
“I took in the Christmas card you sent me – it was a good, clear example for them to work on – and they did it from that. The rest...well, the rest was all _my_ idea...” He kissed Andy’s shoulder, taking Andy’s hand and placing it high up on his groin over the tattoo. “See?” he whispered. “ _Now_ do you believe me? It couldn’t be more clear who I belong to if you’d actually tattooed it on me yourself.”   
  
Andy stared at him in amazement, delight, and disbelief vying for supremacy. “You did this for _me_?”   
  
Elijah kissed him and grinned, glad to see that delight had finally won out on his lover’s face. “Yeah. For no-one but you, baby. That’s _your_ mark on me, there – _literally_!”   
  
“I can’t believe you did that!” Andy shook his head, bright eyes gleaming. “So I’m yours – and you’re _mine_ , precious...,” he whispered against Elijah’s fingers, face softening with relief.   
  
Elijah smiled. “Yeah. Something like that.” And then he kissed him, and Andy couldn’t say anything else at all.   
  
But the words continued to resound in Elijah’s head.   
  
You’re _mine_. And I’m _yours_.   
 _  
 _Always yours._  
  
_ Elijah ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, savouring the faint tang of semen. And then he was remembering mouths and hands and fingers, tongues and cocks and the glide of muscle and the taste of sweat and sex and the powerlessness of possession. Of letting someone else use him. Of being taken over and over and relinquishing all control. And knowing that if what Andy had done wasn’t proof enough, Elijah had heard all he needed to hear Andy say. He felt happy. He felt contented. Above all, with Andy, he felt secure. No matter _what_ Andy said or did to him.   
  
He thought about his conversation with Billy the night before and smiled. He adored Billy’s sweetness and his concern for him, but Elijah knew that he couldn’t explain the nature of his relationship with Andy, even to him. Couldn’t explain what went on between them, the games they played with each other, the roles they accepted willingly and relished playing and the insecurities that drove them. Couldn’t explain that he wasn’t scared by what Andy did or said to him – that he trusted Andy implicitly and knew he was safe with him.   
  
At peace again with the world, Elijah wound his arms around his lover’s body and pressed close against him, feeling Andy’s erection against his thigh and wanting to make the most of the time they had left before the second alarm call when work would begin again for another day. 

The End


End file.
